A Study of Decomposition Rates in Different Situat
by jenbachand
Summary: He has always known how to turn her from confident woman to puddle of melted goo within minutes. The long awaited BrassAnnie smut fic for the LJ Geekfiction Smutathon 07. Don't let the title scare you away. :


**Title:** A Study of Decomposition Rates in Different Situations

**Author:** jenbachand

**Rating:** Adult/Mature

**Pairing:** Brass/Annie with a bit of Grissom/Sara for good measure.

**Summary:** He has always known how to turn her from confident woman to puddle of melted goo within minutes.

**Spoilers:** I guess through this season, but nothing specific.

**Author's Notes:** The long awaited Brass/Annie smut fic for the LJ Geekfiction Smutathon 07. I've had to promise the muse fluff & bunnies to get this finished. Many thanks to mingsmommy for her tireless beta work & also to missandromache for pointing out my tense issues helping it along. The title really doesn't do it justice, but who am I to argue with Microsoft Word. :) Not making any money on this, they don't belong to me.

CSI-CSI-CSI

"A Study of Decomposition Rates in Different Situations" or "Healthy Minds and Bodies" are the only two 10 o'clock seminars available to Annie Hutchings at the _Southwest Crime Professionals_ _Expo_. Neither holds much interest, but at least the latter wouldn't make her lose her breakfast.

She supposes she could wander around the vendors for a couple hours, perusing the goodies and collecting freebies until the afternoon sessions start, but she is hoping to take in a few sights before heading home tomorrow.

She thinks February is the perfect time for Las Vegas to host the convention. The weather is cool and sunny. It's been nicer than she would have thought. She's done some sightseeing in the evenings. Gone to some shows and done some of the more touristy things already. The one thing that she hasn't done this trip is call Jim Brass.

Sure, she knew about the shooting last May, had even sent him a plant and a card, but she couldn't bring herself to call him and catch up. It was silly, but she wants to physically see him again. Her hopes for a chance meeting had been thwarted all week, as she hasn't seen him around the convention hall. Perhaps the night shift had been given a pass on attending or maybe he was catching the early, early seminars.

Striding into Ballroom C she selects a chair at the back of the room to settle in.

The first half is typical psychobabble. _Take care of yourself, talk to someone if things get stressful, and take time off when it's given._ After the smartly dressed psychologist sat down, a tall thin woman with curly hair stood up and took the microphone.

"Hi, my name is Sara Sidle and I'm a CSI here in Las Vegas. We're getting to the fun part now. So everyone stand up," she says over the scraping of chairs and noise of people temporarily filled the room. "And now I'd like to bring up my lovely assistant. He's a bit shy, so come on everyone, let's give him a hand."

Applause & giggles sweep through the crowd as Jim Brass comes striding up onto the stage in a pair of sweatpants and LVPD t-shirt.

He looks…yummy. Better than he had a couple years ago. Better than he had looked the last time they had been together in Jersey. Annie has to shake her head to dissipate the images of his body looming large over her and of sweat slicked bodies writhing together between cheap motel sheets.

She makes herself pay attention to the exercises. If nothing else she would have something to talk to him about.

When their time is up, Sara thanks the crowd. People gather up bags and brochures and begin heading out the door. Annie heads towards the stage. A lunch invitation is the least she can offer her friend.

The sight of this Sara woman hugging Jim, _her Jim_, causes a wave of jealousy she hasn't felt in over 20 years to rise up in her. When Jim blushes at the attention, it makes her falter for a minute.

Perhaps this woman is the key to Jim's happiness and healthier appearance? As she makes her way across the ballroom she notices a man making his way to the pair. She recognizes him as LVPD's forensic entomologist Jim has told her about in the past. At the sight of him, the younger woman's face lights up, her smile broadening, and she knows this woman might be Jim's impetus for losing weight, but her affections are clearly entrenched elsewhere.

"Jim, you're looking well." His look of surprise at her voice brings a smile to her face. The blush creeping down his neck at her compliment makes her long to see just how far down it goes.

"Annie. You look great too." And he does something that he has never done in public in all the years they've known each other. He hugs her.

Just the closeness of him makes her body come alive. Pulling back he gestures to the couple, and that's what they clearly are by their clasped hands. "This is Sara Sidle, although you heard that, and Gil Grissom. They're both from the Crime Lab."

Pleasantries are exchanged all around and the couple excuse themselves to go for a Valentine's Day lunch. As they wander off, butterflies take flight in her stomach when she realizes she is now alone with Jim. To cover her nervousness she blurts out the first thought that comes to mind. "What's so special about that lunch?"

"I think it means they'll be eating things like strawberries and chocolate off of each other," he says with amusement in his voice.

"Well, speaking of lunch," she starts out, trying not to let images of licking chocolate sauce drizzled over Jim's chest side track her. "How about I take you out? My treat."

The appraising look he gives her would have made her swoon, if she'd been the swooning sort of woman. But Police Captains do not swoon, so she settles for what she hopes is a sultry look; she is a bit out of practice after all.

"How about I cook you some lunch? You always were a sucker for my marinara," he says waggling his eyebrows at her.

"It _was_ part of the appeal." She is laughing as she follows him out the door.

They opt to take his car to his house, leaving her car in the hotel's parking garage, mostly because he'll have to put in an appearance at the dinner this evening. The sexual tension in the car was stifling and as they turn into his driveway, Annie knows one thing. The only thing she wants for lunch is one Captain James Brass. And she has a feeling that his lunch menu consists of one Captain Annie Hutchings. She really doesn't mind. No, she doesn't mind. At all.

The minute the door is closed behind them the tension breaks. Lips meet in a heated exchange and tongues dance in a way so familiar it takes her back in time and across the country. Her back is to the door, and it is probably the only thing keeping her upright when he fastens his hot, hungry mouth to her neck.

He has always known how to turn her from confident woman to puddle of melted goo within minutes. While she has been lost in a sudden rush of lust and a flash of searing memories, she fails to notice him unbuttoning her blouse; however, when he leaves her neck, trailing wet open mouthed kisses down her chest, ending by taking a peaked nipple in his mouth through her lacy bra, she realizes he still has the quickest fingers around. The teasing nips he is giving her have her throbbing and wet.

She fumbles with the zipper on the side of her skirt and a moment later she is standing there in her stockings, garter, lace panties, open blouse, askew jacket, and her bra, which now sports two very wet spots.

They're probably less wet than her panties.

His eyes are full of lust and longing. He grabs her hand leading her down the short hallway to the bedroom at the end. Her blouse and jacket are now hanging off one shoulder.

As soon as they reach his bedroom he skims out of the t-shirt & sweats; she thinks he must have toed off his shoes somewhere along the way, but her vision is too blurred by the lust she feels for the man in front of her to worry about where Jim's Rockport's have vanished to.

He's kissing her again, kissing her like she remembers. His kisses make her wetter than she's been in so long. She's never found another lover that could turn her on as much as Jim could with just kissing. His fingers make quick work of her remaining under things and then they are kissing again. Her body falls back on the soft sheets when her knees hit the edge of the mattress. He's looming over her now, sliding home and it's so, so, so good. He's always been a solid man, and mostly he was solid in all the places she needed it. Stretching muscles she hasn't used in years. The moment of discomfort passes quickly as her body adjusts. The sweet slide of his thick cock inside her is something she has missed in all the years they've been apart.

Her orgasm takes her completely by surprise. Sweeping through her so fast, the heat burning through her faster than a California wildfire. Her breathy cries of _Jim, Jim, Jim_ are counter pointed by his groan of _Oh Annie_ before he stills and shudders through his climax.

She blinks up at him, losing herself in those blue, blue eyes. He's wearing that cocky grin. The one that always makes her think of a mischievous boy. The same grin that always takes her breath away.

"Still up for some lunch?" The humor in his voice breaks the mood and she giggles. He rolls off her and tugs her up onto his chest. She notices the scar and tattoo, and gently traces it with her finger.

"You know it's only a couple hours to fly out here from L.A.," she says, hoping that he doesn't notice her note of pleading. That they might pick up and maybe this time be more. More than just a way to burn off excess energy.

"I still make a mean lasagna," he says catching her hand & bringing it up to his lips. "And I wouldn't mind a bit of beautiful company. And maybe more."


End file.
